Chapter 18: One Hour Photo Lab

“What the hell is this?” Liberty challenged, entering her neighbor’s living room. “Is that our clothesline?”

“We needed more than Phinn had,” Jake explained. “Don’t tell Mom. We’ll return it before Esmeralda notices.”

“Or inform her why we need it,” Phineas piped in. He trusted the Magnums’ part-time housekeeper.

“Like I’d tell Mom or Dad,” Libby responded, shaking her head at the things she’d hidden from their parents over the years. “I hope this was worth it. Brigid and I spoiled Sherry. I did manage to skip seeing Mrs. Capshaw when I dropped her off. I didn’t know if you guys pissed her off like most people.”

“Phinn tried.”

“No, I did not try. I merely asked hard questions of our mysterious client,” Phinn responded to Jake’s comment.

Phinn’s living room had two lines running across from wall to wall, creating five rows of pictures and documents. Each row had material on one clothesline, just about at the eighteen-year-olds’ head levels, with another row around their chest level. It’s the lower row that tempted Bandit, who kept using an armchair as a launching pad so he could barely miss grabbing a picture with his teeth.

“No, Bandie. Bad. Very bad,” Phinn scolded the bulldog when it used a footrest to hop back onto the armchair again. “These are already found clues. You don’t need to catch it.”

“Holy…Syd’s mom had this many pictures?” Libby asked, as the sheer number of photographs attached to the lines by clothespins finally resonated in her brain.

“Yes, sixty-eight new pictures besides the three Mrs. Capshaw left for Jake to find,” Phinn divulged. “Apparently, Terry Tull discovered twenty-three women and four men before his death. However, it appears that we have only photos for…”

“Thirteen women and one man,” Johanna reported, checking her notebook. “There are twelve of Mimi von Essen, eleven of an unidentified woman, and ten of Aileen Emmore.”

“Aileen Emmore? Really?” Libby repeated, whistling.

“Yes, if our investigation centered around Avery Voyce’s murder, we’d have plenty of high-profile Edgewater citizens for a suspect list,” Phinn noted, scribbling down a few notes from one of Tully’s records.

“Couldn’t that PI have been killed by one of these blackmail victims? I mean, if they paid out of desperation multiple times, then they might kill to keep the secret hidden,” Libby pointed out.

Johanna and Phinn shared a look before chuckling.

“Wow, sister like brother,” Johanna teased, causing Jake to scowl. “He also had the same idea.”

“Hey, even a nimrod can see common sense occasionally,” the older sister stated.

“I could say the same about you,” Jake shot back. “Uh, did Corky seem okay out there?”

Liberty took a moment to ponder the question. She’d passed their neighbor and his two friends, who were running the combined Farris-Magnum rummage sale. Come to think of it, Corky seemed both excited and upset while his two friends discussed what they planned to buy that weekend.

“He seemed a little mad, but I see you conned his two friends into helping.”

“Conned? The little shits are getting paid,” Phinn fumed. “Apparently, we used up our favor quota with the fight distraction.”

“Why are you pissed? I’m the one who has to pay Eli and Pete,” Jake responded, glaring at his partner. “I still don’t understand why I have to cover all of it.”

“You made money on that boyfriend case. It was supposed to go into the reserve fund. The same for the loot we scammed off those two jerks in the restaurant in Darlingport,” Phinn explained.

“You also got a cut of that money from Darlingport! How the hell did you already spend it? It’s not like you’re wining and dining dates,” Jake shot back.

“Have I spent my cut already?” Phinn asked, but he looked past his best friend at Libby.

“I left it in my trunk. Remember, I don’t know—”

“Anything about it. I heard you the first three times,” Phinn finished, cutting off Libby. “Hmmm, I might need to plug it in or whatever. How long does it take to charge, Johanna?”

Jake followed the ping-ponging conversation with suspicion. He never liked it when his sister and best friend kept things from him. Only after Johanna was brought into the discussion did Jake realize what Phinn had Libby purchase.

“You had her buy you a stun gun?!”

“It did seem like a good idea. An attractive female college student would get fewer questions from a clerk than I would. Plus, it provides plausible deniability that I own one,” Phinn explained, leaving unspoken his preference about the EPD not knowing that he owned a taser. Still, Jake’s incredulous expression led him to elaborate further. “I could’ve used one in Lumlow or the other night with Masked Creep.”

“What about me? Don’t I get one?” Jake challenged. He meant it more as a rhetorical question, so his sister and partner’s shared look shocked him.

“No. I decided you can’t be trusted with a potentially dangerous device,” the big sister declared.

“What?! You can’t…Phinn shot a guy last month and stabbed another one in the eye with a fork,” Jake replied, flabbergasted that Libby trusted Phinn more than him.

“Hey, you insisted that I carry the fork,” the smartass sleuth reminded, smirking.

“Well, maybe I’ll buy my own. Or perhaps I’ll buy a gun. I’m eighteen!” Jake suggested.

Over on a footrest, Bandit growled at the idea.

“You suggest that again, and I’ll tell Mom and Dad,” Liberty warned. Visions of her brother blowing off his hand or foot filled her mind.

“Now, if you’re finished with the tantrum, we have work to do,” Phinn noted, returning to the hanging pictures.

Throwing his hands up in frustration, Jake headed outside to check on Corky and the sale. Another angry groan came from the stocky detective when Phinn told him to take Bandit with him, as the dog needed a potty break. Barking, the bulldog nearly knocked Jake over as he barreled out the back door.

“I don’t know why I can't be inside helping,” the copper-haired assistant whined once Jake walked over toward him.

“You know the reason. Phinn doesn’t want your mom pissed and marching over,” Jake reminded. “There are fully nude photographs in the batch we got.”

“So? I’m not naive. I know about those things. And you’re equal partners with Phinn,” Corky pointed out. “You should have a say.”

“You’d think,” Jake muttered before adding. “Johanna voted with Phinn.”

“How? She’s not even part of the crew!”

“I know! But she can be very insistent,” Jake agreed. “Also, you’re shit out of luck with Libby returning. She won’t let you near them.”

“It’s not fair. I’m supposed to be learning how to be a detective,” Corky declared, pouting. Then, he leaned in to whisper an additional point. “And it’s embarrassing in front of the guys. I’m their leader.”

“I know, buddy,” Jake said, offering a sympathetic shoulder pat. “You all done, Bandit? Alright, let’s check on the bosses.”

Returning inside, Jake saw Phinn reading Terry Tully’s investigation notes. He also watched as Johanna gave Libby a tour of the pictures and the ones she had already identified. Placing Bandit on the dining room chair next to Phinn, Jake’s next question didn’t come out as he caught more of the conversation between the two young women.

“Bunny Casperson? Isn’t she the winner who caused all those issues?” Libby questioned, attempting to remember.

“She is!” Johanna exclaimed.

“I will admit that her appearance in those four pictures came as a surprise,” Phinn announced. “The Caspersons have a reputation for revenge. She’d be suspect number one if Voyce had died.”

“Is everyone connected through Miss Paddle?” Libby asked.

“Many of the women are former contestants, or in the case of Mrs. Rulle, a volunteer,” Johanna disclosed. “I’ve mostly gone by memory so far. Next up will be comparing these pictures to the one in the book I checked out from the library.”

“I still can’t believe that Syd’s grandma got blackmailed, and that her mom had all of this stuff for how long?” the blonde coed queried.

“Last fall,” Jake replied.

The siblings spent several minutes discussing what Sharon Capshaw told the pair of junior detectives. Libby shook her head in disbelief at learning how and why Stella Rulle had died the previous year. She expressed a desire to stop by the Capshaws, but Jake warned her to wait a day. Sherry might be kept out of the loop for now, but Sharon planned to tell Sydney everything later tonight. The teens had merely hinted that her eldest daughter suspected something, not that she’d seen the blackmail photo.

“But I don’t understand. Why didn’t Sharon just ask for your help? Why leave those pictures to be found?” Libby questioned.

“Ask the star detective,” Phinn replied, grinning.

“Oh, no. Don’t even start. I tried to explain, but you hit me,” Jake reminded.

“What?”

“Your best friend’s mother believes the story we tell about Jake’s role in the agency since Dusty moved,” Phinn revealed.

“Seriously? Syd’s mom believed that crap? Oh, I’ll straighten it out,” Libby promised.

“No, you will not. It works, so leave it be,” Phinn directed.

“Oh, come on, Phinny! People can’t be allowed to think that my kid brother is some junior Sherlock Holmes. It’s wrong…and embarrassing.”

“Okay, that’s uncalled for,” Jake argued, raising his hand.

“It’s necessary, and it works for us. Jake’s not without detective skills. With Dusty gone, Jake’s had to step up and be the frontman. That also entails serving as bait more often, which he’s good at,” Phinn explained.

“Yeah, I have had to…Wait, I’m the bait?!”

“Clearly. Look at Phinn. A strong wind could blow him over,” Libby stated, motioning at the scrawny eighteen-year-old.

“Not called for or correct,” Phinn replied.

“You know, I thought Jake was the main detective before helping them on their case. Most people at school do,” Johanna admitted.

“Whatever. That’s because you want to sleep with my brother,” Libby replied dismissively.

“Whoa!”

“Perhaps. But after watching how Phinn manipulates him, I realized the truth,” Johanna admitted.

“Manipulated? Phinn doesn’t do that to me!” Jake denied, looking at his partner, who shrugged and shook his head slightly.

“Oh, lay off it. Of course, he manipulates you, and he has to. Dusty always complained about how you think everyone is innocent, especially women,” Libby recalled.

"Hey! Is this Pick on Jake Day? I'm a valuable member of the team."

“I do value you,” Phinn stated before a bark sounded next to him. “We both do.”

“Whatever. So what’s your plan?” Libby asked, dismissing the point about her annoying brother. Then, she did a double-take while leaning in to study a photo. “No fucking way! That’s Mrs. Nunley!”

“What?!” Jake nearly screamed, rushing over. “Our old junior high teacher?”

“Seriously?” Phinn questioned, remaining seated.

“I’m certain. Mrs. Nunley once spent nearly a week on local history. She brought her old photo albums from her time at North High. Most of the class got a shock when she revealed that she finished third in the pageant,” Libby recounted.

Jake eventually received a slap to the back of his head for gawking at his former teacher’s nude picture. Libby warned him about being a pervert before repeating her question.

“We’re working on identifying the pictures, along with who’s still alive or what happened to them,” Johanna explained. “We already know that Glenda Glane also took her own life like Mimi von Essen.”

“And Ivana Zobel’s husband murdered her. The question is if the blackmail played a role,” Phinn commented.

“Yeah, I guess once we know the names, we’ll start looking into them, and hopefully interview them. From there, we’ll try to narrow down Avery Voyce,” Jake listed.

“Not exactly. I believe we might be able to skip that grunt work,” Phinn interrupted. “This material could help build a case, depending on any crimes that still might be eligible. Blackmail, extortion, and those crimes have long passed the statute of limitations. However, we already know where to find Voyce.”

“You do?” Libby responded.

“I don’t know, Phinn. What if he’s not a neighbor?” Jake questioned.

“No, I believe Stella Rulle did spot Avery Voyce in this neighborhood shortly before her death. Look at this list. Tully suspected there were more victims, and Veronica Strecker thought Voyce had victims in other towns. So I doubt Voyce is destitute enough to be in his seventies and working on other people’s lawns. No, she saw him in front of his home. We just need to locate the man,” Phinn said.

“How are you going to do that? You can’t possibly know all the old people around here?” Johanna questioned, while Liberty smirked.

“Don’t put it past him. He’s unsettling in that way.”

“Yes, I know many, but not all. We’ll need help, but Voyce’s age range shouldn’t be too difficult. I’d speculate that he’s a minimum of seventy as of now, but more likely in the mid to late seventies,” Phinn stated.

“I don’t know, Phinn. There are a lot of senior citizens in the neighborhood,” Jake pointed out.

“He’s right,” Libby agreed. “Many of the original homeowners still live here. It’s even more prevalent east of Mitchell with those homes built in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Those people could be in their eighties.”

“That is true,” Phinn noted, tapping his chin while he mulled over the issue. Suddenly, his demeanor perked up. “However, we might have a way to narrow things down.”

“How?”

“Look at what Sharon Capshaw told us about her mother’s final day. While we know she ran errands on the way over, it doesn’t help us, as we don’t know from what direction she took to her daughter’s. However, it may also indicate a new development. Stella Rulle spent several summers in Edgewater babysitting Sherry,” Phinn reminded.

“Yeah, it was four straight summers,” Libby recalled. “Uh, I was…so seven to ten years ago.”

“Let’s further examine that time period,” Phinn suggested. “If Avery Voyce lived in the neighborhood during that time, why didn’t Stella notice him? Did she stay indoors with Sherry all day? Or did she take her on day trips, such as to the beach, one of the museums, or say a restaurant like Zapperoni?”

“Do you remember? Jake asked his sister.

“It doesn’t matter,” Phinn responded first. “Because we know she often took Sherry to the park for a few of those years.”

“That’s right! We’d see them over there,” Jake recalled, glancing out the dining room window even though he couldn’t see the park too well over the fence.

“Hang on. Syd’s family had Scrappy back then. She only passed away four years ago,” Libby pointed out. “And that dog loved her walks. We’d often take her for one because Syd joked that Scrappy wanted to go three or four times a day. And her grandma often took Sherry and Scrappy on walks.”

"See? My working theory is that Avery Voyce did not move into the Monroe Park neighborhood or a nearby area until six or seven years ago. While I may be making an incorrect assumption, it still narrows down our next step. We'll start with any older residents who bought homes after that time," Phinn said, deciding on their next move. “The list can’t be very long.”

“I don’t know. What if Avery Voyce’s appearance was similar to Sydney’s grandma's? Maybe she saw him on a day that he visited a relative?” Jake suggested.

“Huh? That’s possible,” Johanna agreed.

“It is, but we need to begin somewhere,” Phinn stated.

“Alright, so how are we going to narrow down who bought a house….Oh, Billing,” Jake realized as Phinn picked up his phone.

“Hello, I’d like to speak to Billing in the Register—No, I don’t want the Billing Department, I want the employee named Billing in the Register of Deeds office. Yeah, that guy,” Phinn agreed, rolling his eyes.

Jake wondered why Johanna laughed, but didn’t bother to ask about it. Instead, he listened as his partner explained to the clerk the materials they wanted for homes in the Monroe Park and Mitchell School area. Glad that Phinn made the call, Jake winced as he heard the shouts from the phone.

“Calm down. You’ll draw unnecessary attention. How do I know that? I’ve seen your cubicle, remember? It’s not like you need to dig through different sections. We just want the whole area. What? Yes, we need it by tomorrow. Actually, can you drop it off at my house on your way home tonight?” Shouted curses came over the line. “Too many favors? Oh, Billing, how quickly you’ve forgotten what we did for you. Yes, I’m bringing that up. Why? Because this favor isn’t for Moe Magnum’s grandson, but for his granddaughter. Yes, it’s for her. And you owe the Magnum family for dealing with your bookie. If he hadn’t once worked for Moe, then you know…Good! I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

“What did you just use my name for, and how is Grandpa involved?” Liberty questioned after Phinn ended the call.

“Do you really want to know?” Phinn asked.

“You don’t,” Jake added.

“Uh, Lib, how much change do I have left? The property records will cost us a decent amount,” Phinn noted, causing Jake to groan.

“We need to start getting paid again for one of these cases and soon,” the stocky detective remarked, already counting out the money in his head for the records.

For the next twenty minutes, Liberty helped Johanna use the library book about the history of the Miss Paddle pageant to identify three additional women. The influencer whistled upon confirming the third woman.

“Well, I bet Mrs. Walcott will love this one: Betsy Brown,” Johanna announced, causing Phinn to pause his reading of Tully’s notes.

“Who?” Jake asked, having missed the surprise interview at Hardyhill Senior Living.

“We should keep this one in mind for the next time we encounter the ice queen’s clique,” Phinn suggested, causing Jake’s head to swivel around.

“What’s this got to do with Ellison?”

“That’s the maiden name for Elsbeth Arness, who Verity Walcott thinks snitched on Mimi von Essen’s bisexuality to Crispin Claiborne,” Johanna divulged.

“Wait, Ariana’s grandmother?” Jake double-checked, recalling they’d mentioned her involvement.

“Stay right there,” Libby ordered, as her brother stood up. “You’re not to ogle any more grandmothers in their younger days.”

“Wha…I wasn’t…I’d never,” Jake protested.

“You would if you wanted to see what Blaire Claiborne’s sidekick might look like naked,” Phinn said, nailing Jake’s intention.

“Eww,” Johanna gagged.

“Hold on a moment. Even if you think you found this Voyce guy, how can you prove it’s him? You don’t have any pictures of him back in the 70s, do you?” Liberty asked.

“No, we don’t,” Phinn admitted. “I assume once we narrow it down, we can see if Veronica Strecker recognizes him. She’s the person we’ve met who dealt with him the most that we know of.”

“What about facial recognition software?” Johanna suggested, earning a sharp headshake from Phineas.

“Whoa! I have an idea. Why don’t we take pictures of our neighbors in their seventies? Then, we can show them to Mrs. Strecker with the ones who we think might be Voyce. It could be similar to a police lineup,” Jake suggested.

“That’s not bad,” Libby admitted about her younger brother’s idea.

“It’s a brilliant idea. Excellent brainwork, Jake,” Phinn praised, causing Bandit to bark his agreement.

Checking the clock, Phinn noticed they had a few more hours until the rummage sales closed for the day. Formulating a plan, Phinn started barking out orders. First, he informed Jake that he’d need to run the rummage sale for the rest of the day. Despite groaning, the stocky detective felt curious about his partner’s plans.

“Second, we’ll need to split the sales in half. Libby, you take Johanna and cover all the homes north and east of Monroe Park. Take pictures of any of our older neighbors. Libby will know who I mean,” the lead investigator told the influencer.

“Are you covering the other areas?” Jake inquired, thinking that felt off.

“Of course not. I have to continue deciphering Tully’s notes. His handwriting is illegible in sections. Also, over twenty years of time passing hasn’t helped,” Phinn explained, entering the kitchen.

Slamming open the back door, Phineas didn’t even bother to search for their assistant. He merely shouted Corky’s name.

“Ah, Cormac, how would you like to go on another mission?”

“Really? I’m ready, Phineas,” the copper-haired wannabe sleuth declared, standing straighter.

“Eli’s the smarter of the two, correct? Good. He’ll stay here, but I want you and Pete to…”

---

“Um, wow. You guys probably shouldn’t let my mom or any of the other neighbors see this,” Lance Nook remarked, scanning the living room.

Already past eight-thirty, the sun had lowered enough in the sky to darken the room. To provide extra light, Jake had gone around collecting three additional lamps for the bedrooms, including the one from Putnam's bedroom that he had attempted to use as a weapon the previous night.

Blond-haired and soon to be a twenty-two-year-old, Lance had assisted multiple times with cases over the years, particularly as the group’s chauffeur from when they could only ride their bikes around town. An easygoing, friendly young man, Lance often felt overwhelmed by Phinn and Dusty's actions. Scratching his neck while studying one of the photographs, he already looked unsure and uncomfortable about staying the night.

“No, he’s too young,” Phinn explained, telling Johanna to discard the picture she’d taken. Then, noticing her disbelief, he added, “Yes, I know Mr. Kormley looks ancient, but he’s actually just hit retirement age back in the spring. What you see are the ravages of alcoholism and two packs of cigarettes a day.”

“Jesus,” the influencer remarked in shock while taking another look at the image on her phone.

“Jake, we’re going to need your printer over here as well. I can’t use up all my dad’s ink for when we print out the pictures,” Phinn stated.

“Do we need to print them all off? I thought we could show Mrs. Strecker a batch on a tablet.”

“If you want to do your version of a police photo lineup, we’ll need physical copies. Your mom’s printer is high quality, just not the same level as the one my dad uses for his chemistry lectures,” Phinn explained. “Don’t worry. I’m working to narrow down who we need.”

Jake nodded as Phinn gestured toward the property records that Billing had dropped off earlier. Then, he worried about the trouble Corky had encountered.

“Let’s not worry about that street for now. It’s at the far southern edge of the houses past our old school.”

“I meant that those people might call his parents to complain,” Jake clarified.

“Oh, yes, I guess it’s possible. However, I told Corky to blame Pete if his parents ask about the incidents.”

“Incidents? What are you guys up to now?” Lance questioned, sounding worried about what he might hear in response.

“Come on, Nook. I’ll fill you in,” Libby ordered, motioning toward the kitchen. “After that, I’m out of here.”

“Good,” Jake muttered, causing a resting Bandit to growl.

Already changed into a pair of pajamas that she’d gone home for, Johanna watched Lance and Liberty before returning to her comfy spot on the sofa. Picking up on the tension, she asked about them.

“What? Never in a million years. Libby scares the crap out of Lance,” Jake insisted, laughing at the idea.

“True. Lib does intimidate Lance, but he’s also been sweet on her for years,” Phinn commented, scrolling through more pictures to discard.

“No way! Why would you even think that? You’re crazy.”

“Jake, I monitor people as a hobby and for our cases. Libby also has some attraction to Lance, but finds him too laidback. You know she hates pushovers,” Phinn reminded his best friend.

“She’d be lucky to have Lance,” the younger brother grumbled, although he disliked something about the idea.

The buzzing of a phone led Phinn to smile. Announcing the caller as Pearl Bonnet from the Sassy Girls, he answered in a chipper voice.

“Good evening, ole Oracle. Jake continues to be heartbroken over your rejection.”

“I am not!” the annoyed athlete hissed, causing Johanna to chuckle.

“Sure, you’re not.”

“Oh, hello, Lady Cassidy. What do you seek with your purloined phone?” Phinn queried, messing with the younger and more easily angered Sasser sister.

“Fuck this. He’s in one of his weird moods. I’m not talking to him,” Cassidy declared, handing the phone off.

“Phinn? What did you say now?” Camryn, the elder sister, inquired.

“Nothing much. I just teased her, but not enough for that reaction. Is she having guy troubles again?” Phinn asked knowingly.

“Yeah, she is,” Camryn whispered before raising her voice. “Pearl’s busy baking a cake. So let me put you on speaker.”

Despite the obvious question about a cake, Phinn ignored the situation. Instead, he listened as the group’s information specialist reported her findings while bickering with Cassidy over not screwing up her batter.

“I’ve gone through all the reports compiled by the warden of Mughley Correctional Center, or Mug Jug as you so cutely call it,” Pearl began.

“That’s what the cool crooks call it,” Phinn commented.

“Whatever. Damn it, Cass, stop licking that. You’re going to get sick!” Pearl warned before kicking the younger Sasser out of her kitchen. “Alright, first off, nobody else escaped with Angelo Manfredi.”

“Sorry, Jake, Masked Creep didn’t escape from Mug Jug. We’ll have to check the insane asylums next,” Phinn informed his partner. Then, he paused as Pearl corrected him. “Yeah, I know they don’t call them that any longer.”

“Sure you don’t,” Pearl responded, making a face that caused Camryn to chuckle. “Internal reviews don’t point to any signs of Manfredi planning his escape for an extended period of time. However, guards found a box with his clothes in the air duct of a prisoner workshop that Manfredi had been assigned to.”

“Hmmm, so he dressed up as a guard to leave?” Phinn asked, thinking it sounded believable.

“Oh, no. Your Mug Jug has tight controls. That wouldn’t have worked, as the guards at the main entrance scan ID cards and the guard’s face.”

“Wait, Mug Jug has facial recognition software?” Phinn asked. Jake matched his disbelief by hurrying over to hear better.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that. They merely match the guard’s face through the glass window with the photo on record, which appears on the monitor after they scan their ID. It’s not a bad system, but I suppose it wouldn’t be difficult for a hacker to alter the picture on record,” Pearl speculated.

“So you think that happened?”

“No. Manfredi lived up to his reputation as a master of disguise. He also clearly had outside help. First, he changed into a prison guard uniform, adding a false beard. Exiting the workshop, he must have used a stolen keycard or altered one to enter the visitor’s area. In that section, he took off the guard uniform–which they later found in the bathroom vent–before exiting the bathroom in a suit. Now, his beard had transformed into a pencil mustache and a pair of eyeglasses,” Pearl recounted, sounding impressed.

“So Angelo impersonated a lawyer visiting his client so that he could walk out?” Phinn queried, causing Jake to nod in approval of the scheme.

“Phineas, he did more than that. Manfredi actually visited an inmate. Of course, they later questioned the prisoner, but he insisted that he thought the guy had been the latest public defender assigned to his case. Manfredi had a file on him and even knew the inmate’s details. After that, he walked straight out of the prison, using a temporary ID that matched the one in the system that said he’d entered forty-five minutes prior,” Pearl finished.

“Fuck, that’s pretty impressive,” Jake admitted.

“An interesting escape,” Phinn agreed. “Did anything else catch your attention? Visitors?”

“You are a crafty one, Farris,” Pearl noted. “Angelo Manfredi had only two visits early in his sentence. Both were the same attorney working on his appeal. After the second visit, all their correspondence was through the mail or by telephone.”

“However?”

“You got it. Three days before his escape, Manfredi had a visitor. A youngish woman, likely in her mid-to-late twenties. And her appearance wasn’t expected. A guard recalled Manfredi’s shocked expression upon learning that he had a visitor. The woman claimed to be from the law firm handling his appeals so that they couldn't record her visit.”

“You said she claimed to be from the law firm?”

“Roger that. They checked and found no record of a Star Swindle who worked there,” Pearl revealed.

“Star Swindle? Are you kidding me?” Phinn sighed in disbelief.

“Can you be more obvious about a fake name? I guess not to those guards,” Camryn commented.

“Yeah, the guards at Mug Jug aren’t the brightest,” Jake agreed.

"How do you know?" Johanna questioned loudly enough to be overheard.

Giggles and questions flew about her name and role, but Phinn shut Camryn and Pearl down just as Cassidy returned to try to join the interrogation.

“Oh, you wound me, Jakey. What about our future?” Camryn teased.

"Can we get back on subject?" the detective asked, embarrassed. "We know because we've visited Mug Jug a couple of times. It was uncomfortable."

“I didn’t find it so,” Phinn disagreed. “Besides feeling like we’re gloating, I guess it could be weird for you, since you have family ties to the jail.”

“Let’s not go there,” Jake half-warned, half-begged.

“Fine. Anything else, Pearl? No? Alright, thanks again. You were a big help,” Phinn stated.

“And Phinn’s the one who owes you, not me,” Jake added before the conversation ended. “What do you think of that?”

“Intriguing. Somebody helped Manfredi escape. Yet, if he truly felt surprised by this Star Swindle’s appearance, then it either moved up far earlier than expected, or he knew nothing about it,” Phinn theorized.

“How does someone not know about their jailbreak?” Johanna challenged.

“You wouldn’t if somebody wanted a job done in return,” Jake speculated.

“Right. I think we can rule out Manfredi as part of the blackmail case. This is something else. Perhaps the Masked Creep is also not involved with our current case,” Phinn said, deciding to focus on the blackmail for now. “I hate being reactive, but with those two players, we don’t have enough information to make a move yet.”

“Hopefully, Dusty can give us some leads about the big guy,” Jake said.

“Um, didn’t you have case file homework to do?” Phinn prodded, causing Jake to claim they had a case to work on.

Several hours passed with the clock ticking to about half past eleven. Johanna had already called it a night, heading up to the guest bedroom. Jake’s attempt to read the old case files fell apart once Lance started watching a back-and-forth baseball game from the West Coast. Sighing, Phinn continued to pore over the property records between breaks from Terry Tully’s sloppy handwritten notes.

“Lance, you got anything planned in the morning?” Phinn asked out of nowhere.

“Why?” Jake questioned, as their neighbor shook his head.

“Good. We’ll need you to help Corky with the sale. First thing in the morning, we need to call to set up a meeting with Veronica Strecker, maybe Chandra Walcott, as well. I want them to look over several photos.”

“You found something, didn’t you?” Jake challenged.

“I think Terry Tully did. The week before his murder, he got a potential lead on Nan Kronen,” Phinn relayed.

“The woman in the picture with Mimi von Essen?!”

“Calm down. If I’m correct, Avery Voyce’s alias is going to shock you and be somewhat ironic,” Phinn teased, preferring to leave Jake in the dark as usual.